It's a sickness, I tell you. A sickness. I am ill. And Mr. Clean is ready to toss me out of the house if I do not "Stop. It. Already." He has had enough with the no eating at the kitchen table because it is full of cupcakes.

I couldn't help it, though. There was all this flour, sugar, and butter left over from last week. And, ummm... I don't have room in my cabinets for it all. Yeah, that's it. No room. I was obligated to get it all out of the way! Plus, you know flour goes bad, right?

Or maybe I was just craving chocolate.

If that wasn't enough to justify my sick, sick ways... here's another excuse: C-Boy is coming over tonight for some poker and alcohol. Nothing goes with Five-Card Draw and Maker's Mark like Chocolate Chai Spice cupcakes. Don't you agree? I think so! Mr. Clean, on the other hand, is shaking his head and giving me with the stink-eye every time he walks through the kitchen. How rude. I don't think he's going to get any cupcakes. That's too bad, because they look pretty edible...

You might wonder what I've been up to other than baking. Umm, not much. I've recently concluded that the baking is a new form of avoidance for me. It used to be crocheting... until people told me to stop sending them blankets. Also, I have enough scarves to help Rapunzel out of her tower. Then, it was reading but my book-buying budget was cut off at the knees (Mr. Clean. Again. The man lets me have NO fun.) Now, the baking. Except I think I'm done. Finally.

SO. I guess I'm participating in this year's NaNoWriMo. Everyone else is all geared up and ready to go, plots at the starting line. Me? I have some rough ideas. Some snippets of plot. An image or two. In other words, not a whole hell of a lot. I'm going to try pants-ing instead of plotting for once. I can sum it up with a few words, so far:

Nuclear missiles. A sailboat. College freshmen. Angst. Where's The Fruitbat? (yes. I know that was more than "a few" words)

Where it goes... I haven't a clue. We'll see. I'm loading up a new playlist on the iPod and then it's 50,000 words in 30 days. Guess I'm just trading one illness for another.

Have a great weekend, y'all!

(and, please... ignore any formatting funkiness. I have NO clue what's up with Blogger today. Total pain in the ass.)

Fairy - Good luck with NaNo! It's a total exhausting, hair-pulling, MESS of fun. Load up on the chocolate, coffee, and cupcakes! You'll need 'em. And tell the boy to expect No Attention. My crew is already planning what "They" will be cooking for dinner. Heh.